


magnanimous

by fuckboyluke



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Friends With Benefits, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 08:08:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3684651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuckboyluke/pseuds/fuckboyluke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>mag·nan·i·mous<br/>maɡˈnanəməs/<br/>adjective<br/>very generous or forgiving,</p><p> </p><p>Basically Ashton is a fuckboy and Luke is oblivous to his fuckboyness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	magnanimous

 Michael watched Luke bounce down the stairs, a huge grin on his face. He rolled his eyes because he knew it was that time of the year again. Ashton was tired of whatever little girlie he was screwing that week and ran back to Luke, and Luke would always take him back with open arms.

It was quite funny, actually. Luke was the one who always talked down on girls on tv shows, calling them "delusional" or "lacking better judgement" for running back to their cheating boyfriends, but he was doing the exact same thing.

It was the most cyclic thing Michael had ever had the misfortune of being apart of. It's not liked this was something he volunteered for, but _somebody_ had to be there to wipe the tears from Luke's face and drag him out the house before he had to hear what was happening up stairs.

The boy would always say that he was okay and _"this happens so often, I don't know why I'm not ammuned to it yet."_

But Michael knew. Knew that Luke was indefinitely in love with Ashton, knew that had to be the only reason he kept running back into the boy's arms. It was either that, or Ashton was extremly good in bed and Luke couldn't get enough.

 

"Where are you going, anyway?" Michael asked the blond boy, eying him suspiciously. 

"Just to the store to pick up some... things."

"Like what? Some condomes? Lube? Or maybe even some Ketamine so Ashton can fuck you without feeling anything? Have fun." Michael turned back to his phone, ignoring the disheartening look on the other boy's face.

"I--we--you know that we don't. We never did and..., ugh  _Michael_."

"Luke."

"Why do you always have to do this?" Luke mumbled, fiddling with the hemmof his t-shirt.

"I feel like I should be the one asking you that, yeah?"

"You know that this makes me feel good. Happy. Better."

"How does this make you happy, Luke? Do you enjoy being someone's last resort for everything? It must be really fun."

"You don't understand. Things are different with him."

"What's so different with him? The sex? Because that's all he's giving you. The bastard doesn't even have the balls to sleep in the same bed as you. And then in the morning he sweet talks you, feeds you some bullshit that we all know is not true and you still believe him because you're a fucking idiot."

"I'm not an idiot." Luke hisses, letting his anger get the best of him. "You're supposed to he helping me through shit like this, not tearing me down about it."

"I am helping you! I'm giving you the cold hard facts, not any of that sugarcoating shit that you're used to. It's not my fault that you can't handle it. You let him treat you like dirt, Luke! He walks over you, brings home different girls to fuck, _while you're still at home_ , might I add, and you still blow him at the end of the week. You're amazing."

"I care about him okay?! I just want him to want me the way I want him. I want to wake up and see that he's not off with some other chick, but you know....with me." Luke spoke, voice getting small. 

"You know it doesn't work that way. That's not how Ashton is, how he'll ever be. I'm surprised he's stuck with you this long, to be honest."

"You're really not helping."

"Just telling you like it is. How many days do you have left anyway?"

"It's been eleven days, so maybe two or three." Micahel could see the boy's mood deflate as he played with the hem of his tshirt, eyes glued to the ground. 

"I hope you're not wasting your tears on him."

"Wouldn't be the first time, would it?" Luke forced out a small laugh. 

"That doesn't make it okay, though." 

"Have you ever heard that love makes you do crazy things? It makes you blind, in a sense. You're so wrapped up with them and everything they do that you don't realize all the wrong with them." 

"So basically you're saying that you ignore Ashton's fuckboy tendencies because you're in love with him?"

Luke nodded his head, blue eyes wide and pleading. "At least I think I am. I feel like I am."

"I thought you were an idiot before, but now. Jesus christ." 

"I can't help it." Luke whined. 

"You can't help falling in love with a douchebag?!" 

"Um, no? I-I guess not." Luke stuttered out, unsure of himself.

"You know what, Luke? I always thought you would be the one to elude this. You were the smartest one of us all. Remember you wanted to go to that performing arts school or whatever? What happened to that?"

"I didn't, uh, I. I didn't want to be so far away from...From..."

"From him."

"Yeah. From all of you." Michael knew that Luke mostly meant Ashton, but he tried not to pay too much attention to that. 

"Does he have you that whipped to where you're making decisions of this magnitude based around what he wants?"

"I just. Ugh." Luke ran his hands over his face, letting out a long sigh.

"Yeah, you're just an idiot."

"Stop calling me that!"

"Luke? What are you still doing here?" Ashton stood in the doorway, disgusting purple marks, _marks that came from_ Luke's _mouth_ on display for everyone to see.

"I was just talking to Michael about something. I'm leaving now." Luke let his long legs, almost robotically, carry him to the door, slamming it shut behind him.

"What were you guys talking about?" The older boy walked around the couch, plopping down in the sofa across from Michael.

"Why does it matter?" Michael looked up from his phone, grimacing at the sight in front of him. "Would it kill you to put a shirt on? I know enough about what you two do behind closed doors, I don't need to see it also."

"If I didn't know better I would think you were jealous." A smug look settled on his tan face as he scanned the bruises that littered his torso, disappearing behind the fabric of his night pants.

"I could care less about you shoving your dick in Luke's ass, to be honest. But I do care about you taking advantage of him. Getting what you want from him and throwing him to the side like a rag doll. And you know who has to clean up your mess? Me."

"Well don't jump in my ass about it. You got yourself involved."

"What the fuck else was I supposed to do? Let him sit outside your room door in hysterics while you fuck whatever thing you drag in that night?"

"That's what I would do." The curly headed boy shrugged. "But, seriously. Whatever Luke and I do is none of your business."

"None of my business? None of _my_ business? It is my business when I'm the only one here that gives a shit about him. You're too busy trying to bust a nut and who knows what the fuck Calum's out there doing half the time, but it's definitely better than dealing with the two of you."

"You're more worked up about this than Luke is. It's just sex, Michael." Michael swallowed hard, trying to calm himself down before he kicked Ashton's ass.

"It's not just sex, Ashton! To you it maye seem that way but you know way better than I do that is not how Luke sees it. You do this thing, you know, where you fuck him up for at least two weeks every couple of months; it makes him happy, whatever you do. Feed him lies, butter him up and shit, just to pop whatever little bubble he was in when you drag in tube tops and high heels. And you know what I heard? You're not even that great in bed."

"Luke obviously doesn't feel that way since he loves begging me to--" Luke burst through the door, all traces of his downtrodden mood gone and replaced with something akin to . 

"I got it." 

"All of it?" Ashton asked. Luke nodded so hard his Michael thought his head was going to detach from his shoulders. Ashton shot Michael a wicked smirk before getting off the sofa and dragging the blond boy upstairs behind him. 

Michael was too distracted by their own rage to realize that Luke wasn't carrying any bags.


End file.
